


Fuck Peanuts

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: SpaMano Oneshots [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternative Perspective, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:27:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4097524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bright red Ferrari perched among the SUVs. No stickers or dents, certainly no room for a car seat, yet it still arrived every Saturday for the weekly PTO meetings. It received more than its fair share of envious stares and annoyed looks. </p><p>It was probably because it belonged to Lovino.</p><p>“I can’t pack my kid Goldfish for lunch?” Lovino stood, one hand on his hip, sneer on his face. “Why exactly are <i>you</i> telling me what to feed my kid?”</p><p>Steve smiled, though it was faulty. “Because, Mr. Vargas, one of the children in the grade has a sever allergy—“</p><p>Lovino raised an eyebrow. “That’s my fault? If I want to pack Goldfish, then I should be able to pack fucking Goldfish.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A bright red Ferrari perched among the SUVs. No stickers or dents, certainly no room for a car seat, yet it still arrived every Saturday for the weekly PTO meetings. It received more than its fair share of envious stares and annoyed looks. 

Jen never had much of a problem with a car. She knew that Lauren and Rachel muttered darkly to one another whenever they saw it, insurance premiums and the fate of the children swirling darkly. But Tom down the block had gotten a motorcycle. 

It was probably because it belonged to Lovino. 

“I can’t pack my kid Goldfish for lunch?” Lovino stood, one hand on his hip, sneer on his face. “Why exactly are _you_ telling me what to feed my kid?”

Steve smiled, though it was faulty. “Because, Mr. Vargas, one of the children in the grade has a sever allergy—“

Lovino raised an eyebrow. “That’s my fault? If I want to pack Goldfish, then I should be able to pack fucking Goldfish.”

Jen frowned, and she heard Lauren and Rachel descend into a bout of disapproving whispers behind her. Lovino turned his head sharply before looking back at Steve. Jen wanted to sink through her chair into the floor. 

“Don’t even get me started on the peanuts.”

Rachel’s voice cut off immediately.

Unfortunately, Sarah was in Claudio’s grade. Jen would stand awkwardly at pickup, trying desperately to ignore Lovino. After all, he had that car, and he wore those expensive suits, and he had such a _mouth_ but...

Jen watched sadly as Claudio walked out next to Sarah, holding hands. 

One day, Jen finally built up the nerve to ask, “Sweetheart, are you friends with that boy Claudio?”

“Yes, and Claudio’s gonna’ ask his dad if we can have a playdate!” She grinned, eyes wide. So innocent. 

Jen’s heart sank. 

The next day, Lovino walked up to her with a purpose. He had gone slightly more casual today, a button-up and pair of slacks, but they were both ironed vigorously, and his shoes were shiny. Jen, wearing a shirt that was too small for her growing stomach and sweats, smiled. 

“Are you Sarah’s mom?” Lovino asked when he reached her. 

She _could_ lie.  

Jen held out her hand. “Jennifer, but most people call me Jen. Claudio’s dad, right?” As if the entire PTO board didn’t know. “Sarah talks a lot about Claudio.”

Lovino shook her hand with surprising warmth. “Lovino. Claudio’s been bitching about having a playdate with Sarah for weeks. When would you be free?” 

Jen put it off, until Sarah threw herself to the ground (a tactic no doubt learned from Claudio) and sobbed that Jen didn’t want her to have friends. Left with no other option, at least according to Lauren and Rachel, Friday afternoon found Jen on the Vargas doorstep. 

It was a fantastic house. Huge yard, three stories, the red Ferrari parked protectively in the driveway. Jen had even seen a pool in the back. She wondered if Lovino was rich, what he did, what his wife’s job was. 

Sarah rang the doorbell. 

Inside, there was the sing-song of another language, a shout in another. Something fell, and it knocked against the door.

A man opened the door, a grin already across his face. 

“Eh, sorry about that! I was upstairs, trying to find the food for the turtles, and Lovino wouldn’t get the door. Neither would Claudio, because he’s out back. Who are you?” He spoke with a lisp, and he seemed strikingly happy. 

“Uh.” Jen smiled back. “Jennifer, but people call me Jen. Sarah’s mom.” She pushed forward Sarah in explanation. “I… They have a playdate?” 

It took a moment, but recognition eventually dawned in the man’s eyes. “Sarah! Claudio’s been very excited to see you…” He said something else, but Jen was too caught up in the accent to his words and the way his mouth moved. 

Who the hell was this?

It took her a moment to realize he had asked a question. 

“Sorry, what?” 

The man laughed. Jen wasn’t sure what was so funny, but she chuckled along as well. 

“I asked if you would like to come in! You aren’t allergic to cats, are you? Sarah, Claudio should be out back, right through there.” The man showed her inside, yelling upstairs in what sounded like Spanish. He looked at her. “How far along are you?”

Jen rested a hand on her stomach. “Just a couple of months. You’re the first person to realize I… Well, that I’m not getting fat, just pregnant.” Jen hesitated, then broke. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

The man let out another laugh. “I’m Antonio.” He led her to a light and airy kitchen, all windows and counter-space. “We’ve been thinking about adopting another, as well.”

“No, we haven’t,” Lovino growled, and Jen jumped. He had appeared out of a side room, wearing a t-shirt and jeans. 

“Not even a little girl?” Antonio teased, watching Lovino walk through the kitchen. “A little princess? Someone to dress up in skirts?” Antonio winked at Jen. “He likes to pretend adopting was all my idea.”  


Lovino looked at Jen and then gave Antonio a glare. “It was. You literally brought the kid home and said ‘surprise.’”  

It clicked, and Jen let out a soft “oh” in understanding. 

Jen seems to have been the only one out of the loop. Lauren and Rachel launched into a tirade. 

“Can you believe it?” they said, “That someone as reckless as Lovino got such a nice husband? He’s so cute, and nice, and that poor boy only has one good father instead of two!”   


At the next meeting, Jen watched Lovino on his rant, and she imagined him laying in bed, Claudio wedged between him and Antonio, snarl replaced with a smile. 

“ _Fuck peanuts_! Fuck you, Rachel!”   


It was certainly a strange image. 


	2. Fuck Rachel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fucking Rachel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **thatonespamanoshipper said :** Could you maybe do more PTA dad romano? I mean if you want to of course, that's first priority and all. I really loved the peanuts fic you did with that kind of thing so yes okay thank you!!

"Can you say  _papa_ , sweetheart?" Antonio waved a hand in front of Camila's face. "Claudio, I have some bad news."

Claudio didn't look up from his comic.

"I'm afraid we're going to have to return your sister."

Claudio's eyes snapped up. " _What_? What the heck are you talking about! Dad said that—"

Antonio held Camila in front of Claudio. "She won't  _speak_ , Claudio! I don't know what else to do! We'll have to return her and get a better baby. Maybe a puppy. I like cats better, but Dad likes dogs better, so I guess it'll be a fair trade."

Antonio could hear the engine from a mile away. The sounds of screeching tires. Of burnt rubber from tires they've had to replace weeks ahead of schedule. Lovino's third child, even.

Claudio ran to the garage, and he was already yelling as he threw open the doors. " _Dad_ ," he whined, "Papa said that…"

Claudio froze, then scurried back inside. He hid behind the couch Antonio was sitting on. Antonio, for his part, bounced Camila on his knee.

Lovino strode in, groceries in one hand, the other on his hip.

"Claudio!" Lovino called.

Antonio grinned. "Welcome home—"

Lovino stalked around the living room, groceries swinging widely. "Where is he? We have business to attend to."

"Oh, my day was fine, thank you for asking," Antonio said brightly. "I'm afraid we're going to have to return Camila, she won't speak!" Antonio held up Camila. "Look, see?"

Camila gurgled, and Lovino scooped her up in his free arm.

"Da," Camila said.

Antonio was offended. "Papa," he whispered, trying to be as persuasive as possible.

"A fucking  _bake_  sale, Antonio!" Lovino kissed Camila on the top of the head. "There's a bake sale  _tomorrow_  and I have abso-fucking-lutely  _nothing_  baked! Can you imagine what Rachel will say? Jesus, she's such a—"

Antonio coughed loudly. "Wasn't there a flier?"

" _Some_ one didn't give it to me," Lovino said darkly.

"Santa?" Antonio said.

"Jimmy's mom didn't  _mean_  to skip over me! I was gonna' ask him for another one, but…" Claudio trailed off, or his voice was muffled by the couch cushions.

Lovino gave Camila to Antonio. He dragged Claudio out from behind the couch, stood him up, and put a hand on either shoulder.

"Claudio," Lovino said, looking deep into Claudio's eyes, "today is the day I am going to teach you your heritage. You're going to cook the best fucking bake sale foods to ever grace the face of your elementary school. Do you want to make Rachel embarrassed?"

"Who?"

"Do you want to make Jimmy's mom embarrassed?" Lovino nodded, slowly. "Because we are. Do you hear me? Do you know what your heritage is?"

Claudio shook his head.

"It's being really petty and shoving how much better we are than other people in their faces. Are you in?"

Claudio thought it over. "Can I lick the spoon?"

"Of course." Lovino's voice was grave, deadly serious.

"Can  _I_  lick the spoon?" Antonio asked.

"No," Lovino said, not looking at him.

"Da," Camila said.

Antonio hung his head.

* * *

Claudio had passed out on the couch hours ago, frosting covering his face. Camila, the good baby she was, watched them with her big, sleepy eyes as they walked around the kitchen; always content to lay on her blanket, head on a stuffed animal.

Antonio poured another glass of wine, watched Lovino. The wine had mellowed his movements out, and now Lovino's hands were calm and practiced, mixing in coloring or frosting, checking the taste of this batter and that.

He had changed out of his suit, in just underwear and a kitchen apron. Boxers were the only thing he would wear when cooking—everything else in his closet was too expensive.

Antonio sipped wine.

"Are you looking at my ass?" Lovino asked.

Antonio giggled. "No. I'm just thinking about how happy I am." He considered. "I mean, I  _am_  looking at your ass, but also thinking about how happy I am."

Lovino grunted. He cut open another cupcake, laying down the chocolate frosting. "This looks like a hamburger, right? This is so fucking cute, I could kill myself." Lovino stuck his finger into the frosting and held it out for Antonio.

Antonio nearly cheered with joy.

"Don't eat my finger off," Lovino laughed.

Antonio caught his wrist, slobbered all over Lovino's hand. Lovino scoffed, but it turned into a chuckle, grew into a full-blown laugh he had to slap his hand over, tears streaming from his eyes.

"I cannot believe," Lovino hissed between silent laughs, "I'm making fucking cupcakes at two in the morning."

Antonio loved him.

* * *

"Jen!"

Jen stiffened, then turned around. "Ah, Lovino—"

"I need your table," Lovino said, eyes invisible behind his sunglasses. "I need to show the  _fuck_  out of these PTO bitches. I made hamburger cupcakes."

Jen smiled. "They're really cute."

"I know." Lovino slapped his tray down on the table Jen had been resting her diaper bag on. "Watch these. I'm going to get the rest."

"The… rest?" Jen asked, but Lovino was already striding away.

By the "rest," Lovino meant four more trays of various themed cupcakes. Jen felt very inadequate about her cookies; they either had too much baking powder or too much baking soda. They were sad cookies.

Lovino's cupcakes were arrogant. They were not sad.

Lovino stood behind his cupcakes, one hand in his pocket, sipping on a coffee, hair styled, shoes shiny. He caught Jen staring at him.

"I haven't slept in twenty-four hours. These fucking cupcakes took ages to make."

Jen noticed his hand shaking as he sipped.

"I have so much fucking caffeine in my system I can actually  _feel_  my heart deteriorating." Lovino said it so softly, Jen wasn't sure if he was talking to her, or whispering it to himself.

Lovino sold every single one of his cupcakes.

He made close to two-hundred dollars.

Jen watched him in between customers, and she was almost positive his head kept dipping down because he was falling asleep standing up.

"You know," she said, "I admire your dedication to helping the school district."

Lovino laughed. "Ha, no, I just really want to rub Rachel's and Lauren's face in how fucking fantastic my cupcakes are."

* * *

"Papa."

"Da?"

"No,  _Papa_."

Camila started crying.

"She loves me more," Lovino called from the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Domestic AUs? SpaMano? Both things I do not have enough of. 
> 
> Can you imagine Lovino being that bitch at the PTO meeting, because I can.


End file.
